Step 5: Make a Family
Not to go all heteronormative on you, but you should marry someone of the opposite sex and have a ton of babies (yes, even you in the red button-up with the square glasses and sad smile; you’re getting up there in years). Not really, but the idea of family is more important than the actual appearance of that family. It does not just mean you and a partner and parenting; it’s your set of relationships to other people who need the same things as you. This means you can make a family out of the friends around you and pets, out of getting closer to your biological family or out of a baseball team, firehouse, modeling agency or other institution where hot people reside. In these cases, a family doesn’t even have to be aware of your existence, so post their pictures from the “Burly Beefcakes” calendar near your bed. They will appreciate it.
Remember: having kids is a choice, being queer isn’t; it’s an asset. By being queer, you can avoid the trap of unwanted pregnancy—which, at one point or another, is most pregnancy (usually when your perineum rips, and it will). By virtue of not being a quivering mess of a 16-year-old, you can decide how you pluck out a child, whether through adoption, surrogacy or plain ol’ artificial insemination. The final decision rests on you, but a word of advice: adoption allows premade children to find a home, and while forwarding one’s own lineage seems like a noble idea, think of this the next time you contemplate surrogacy or insemination:

Of course, some states are in the process of denying or already deny adoptive privileges to LGBT parents, so it may be a much more difficult road to adopt a child if you are in, say, Arkansas (hint: move). If you have no option to adopt but still desire a relationship with children, become a party clown. Instead of paying excessive money to raise a child, you’ll get compensated for all the children you can handle. And you’ll be universally terrifying, so you will always have their respect. It’s true what they say: clowning is the poor man’s secret and the rich man’s desire.
Kevin Sparrow is a queer writer living in Chicago. Currently, Kevin is the editor of Cul de sac Magazine, an online blog dedicated to social justice and cultural analysis from an LGBT perspective.



















Kevin Sparrow is a queer writer living in Chicago. Currently, Kevin is the editor of
I love frozen yogurt. It tastes as good as ice cream and makes you feel better about yourself after you eat it. Best of all, it is entirely customizable; you can choose pecans, Raisinets, Oreo cookies, chunks of pineapple or even banana. Queer people in the job market are just like frozen yogurt; a tasteful alternative and fat-free. (Okay, this metaphor has stretched far enough). While not every company complies with Equal Opportunity Employment (EOE) standards, there is an increasing awareness that LGBT workers need to be valued to the same degree as all other employees. Who would have thought?
A special word of caution for bi-gals and lesbians: Katy Perry is not a role model. She is not empowering. She is an omen. It is a blessing to be able to kiss another woman, whether shapely or slender, and exploitative dips into lipstick lesbianism (that were more relevant and actual in 1995 when done by Jill Sobule who actually likes kissing women) are not admirable, no matter how much Out Magazine wants you to believe they are. Any girl who sees you as a commodity to kiss for the thrill of experience and nothing else should be kicked to the curb. And if you see Katy Perry, just kick her. (
Step 1: Come Out